Ain’t Nobody by Adrienne Thompson

Why I write Inspirational Women’s Fiction and Romance…I write Inspirational Women’s Fiction and Romance because those are the genres I have read the most in my lifetime and they have greatly influenced my writing.

Blurb:

With her biological clock ticking like a time bomb, Alex Weaver issues her long-time commitment-phobic boyfriend an ultimatum. Soon, things are back on track and Alex is well on her way to her “happily ever after.” That is, until she makes a discovery that rocks her to her core. When Alex decides to take control of her future, she begins to make some life-altering decisions that set her on the path of fulfilling her goal of having a family. But will she be able to deal with the consequences?

Excerpt:

I was in no mental state to be writing, and I knew it. But writing was my passion and my refuge and when all else failed, only it could lift my mood. But somehow, the depression I’d slid back into as soon as my plane hit US soil had superseded the healing effects of writing. Sitting on my computer screen was not the elegant string of words I was known for, but a string of obscenities. Nothing but angry words lined the

page. I sighed, closed my eyes, and prayed for a brief moment. Then I clicked on the iTunes icon and began to scroll through my music, hoping that a soothing tune would inspire me. Why did I own so many stupid love songs? I scrolled and scrolled until my only option for music was a Lil’ Wayne album that Quincy had downloaded to my computer, and I couldn’t even stand to listen to that because it reminded me of him. I stared at the songs listed on the computer: “What You Won’t Do For Love,” “Can’t Hide Love,” “Love And Happiness,” “Sweet Love,” “When We Get Married,” and the one that really sent me over the edge: “All True Man.” That did it. Next thing I knew, I was deleting my entire iTunes library. Then I deleted the page of obscenities. Then I unplugged the laptop and threw it across the room. Somehow it landed on the couch and just as I was walking over to it with intentions of thrusting it against the wall, my doorbell rang. At first I stood there as if I didn’t know what to do. Then I slowly made my way to the door, smoothing my hand over the raggedy braids on my head. I peered through the peep hole and felt my blood instantly begin to boil. I snatched the door opened and shrieked, “What do you want?!”